


Blame it on me

by piltovers_finest



Category: League of Legends
Genre: M/M, NSFW, PWP, oh no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 21:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15494814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piltovers_finest/pseuds/piltovers_finest
Summary: He knew that Viktor was still out there, plotting his revenge. One day - maybe someday soon - an awful lot of trouble was headed for Piltover. And Jayce would be waiting.





	Blame it on me

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, even though this doesn't get as explicit as it could it's still nsfw. If you're a minor reading this, please close the tab right now.

The first attack had been a warning. Jayce is clever enough to know, as well as when the next one would be after a bit of snooping around and some calculations. If he's right, and he's always right, Viktor's going to strike that night and Jayce is waiting in his workshop. What he hasn't been able to find out is what Viktor is planning this time. Hopefully, nothing involving his skull. He's rather attached to it and it would be a tragic loss for Piltover's scientific community.

Jayce has his hammer handy, just in case, and has made sure to be alone this time.

He sits on his workbench, leaning back on his hands as he looks out of his skylight into the night sky. For a man who claims to hate emotions all this revenge is awfully sentimental. Jayce should let him know. Send him a letter, maybe. Visit him one of these days, kick down the door to his new lab. Not like that went well last time he tried, but still. Would kill some time and maybe some tension.

There are three, sharp, knocks on his door. Jayce closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, exhaling through his nose as he opens them again and jumps off the workbench. Might as well open the door before whatever goons Viktor has sent after him this time do it themselves.

He approaches the door taking his hammer in the way and tenses up as he grabs the doorknob. On the count of three, he'll open and blast anything standing on the threshold.

One, he switches to cannon-mode.

Two, the doorknob turns.

Three, he opens the door, fast, gets in position to shoot and upon looking up at his target finds Viktor standing tall and still.

Jayce doesn't shoot.

Viktor doesn't either.

"What are you doing here," he breathes out, only half aware of the hammer slipping between his fingers until Viktor points at it, calmly, with a frighteningly mechanical hand. Jayce tightens his grip around the handle so hard it hurts.

Viktor turns his head to the side as if pondering. Jayce swallows. He knew that Viktor would come, he was acutely aware of it being a possibility, just not so soon and never alone. Always with an army of automatons ready to take over humanity. Not by himself in the dead of the night, not knocking on his door. Not when Jayce is still so weak to him.

"There'll be time for that," Viktor answers, as dry as he's ever been, and the metallic undertones make Jayce shiver. Which is interesting, to say the least, but he can't dwell on it. "Can I come in?"

As he says it, he's already pushing Jayce away with a hand on his shoulder and a twist of the hip and Jayce blinks at his mask's profile as Viktor passes by him, straight into his workshop, and right to his workbench. Unsure of how to act or what to do, Jayce closes the door and drops his weight on it. Should he attack? It would be the smart decision. The right one, probably. Viktor is there, having left his staff on the workbench, picking tools seemingly at random and inspecting them, and although he has made no move to harm Jayce he could be plotting. He has no way to know.

Jayce is, however, intrigued. "What do you want? " he asks, and Viktor stops messing with his stuff and turns to him.

"What do you think?"

Jayce can't see his eyes, only the glow of the slits in his mask, yet he feels stared at.

"Revenge," he says, and Viktor hums but it doesn't sound like he agrees. He leans on the workbench not unlike Jayce had been doing before he arrived and Jayce steps closer. It's how unguarded he seems, he reasons, how paradoxically and stupidly confident. It's drawing him in. Possibly a trap. Jayce has his hammer if that's the case.

"You think I would do that?"

Jayce has to laugh. Can't hold that in. "You already did."

"Fair enough," Viktor's voice is almost a drawl, low and slow, and Jayce will ignore what it does to him for now. He focuses on watching Viktor, the way he has changed himself. One of his hands isn't human anymore and one of his arms doesn't look like it either. His torso is now made of pieces of smooth steel and Jayce finds himself fascinated with the way they shift with Viktor's breathing until he talks. "My eyes are up here."

He snaps his head back up to look at Viktor's mask, mortified but unwilling to show how much. There's a smirk under there, somewhere. He knows. He can feel it.

"Your fascination with my augmentations clashes quite harshly with how opposed you were to them," Viktor says, and Jayce is starting to think that his only objective that night is driving him mad.

"I'm still an engineer," he argues, but Viktor doesn't answer. He pushes himself up and alarmingly close to him. Jayce grips the hammer tight but Viktor drops a hand over his and his breath catches in his throat. It's the metallic one, and he can feel the pinch of his skin caught in the joints. Prickles of pain that make him gasp.

"Could you leave this out of our conversation?" Viktor asks, and the casual tone makes Jayce bristle. He's ready to rebut yet Viktor's fingers tighten around his and it's gone. As he looks at the slits of Viktor's mask, metal around his hand, the shallow sound of Viktor's breathing a reminder of exactly how close he is, his skin tightens around him and he feels helpless to do anything but obey.

Jayce grabs Viktor's wrist with his free hand until he lets him go and leans over him, close enough for their chests to touch, to leave the hammer on his workbench. Viktor doesn't move, doesn't even flinch, and once Jayce is back where he was before the smell of steel and fabric lingers.

"There," he says, and it sounds breathless. Viktor raises his hands and Jayce has the grim realization that this is how he dies. Pathetic and weak, lured by how intensely he longs for him. But there's no fatal blow, only a click and the sound of metal on stone and then Viktor's eyes in front of him. There's a shine to them, something unknown that frightens him with how it changes the familiar sight of Viktor's eyes, that Jayce wasn't expecting.

Jayce looks down to avoid them, at the sharp curve of Viktor's narrow waist and maybe that was a mistake.  He closes his eyes, hands trembling at his sides, and hates himself for how easy it has been to leave him defenseless in his own workshop. After all his careful calculations, the planning, the cocky confidence in being able to survive the attack, and yet there he stands trembling in front of Viktor.

"Jayce," Viktor whispers and it feels like electricity under his skin, makes him snap his eyes open and look at Viktor's face. "What do you think I want?"

Viktor raises a hand towards Jayce's cheek and in that moment, before it touches his face, Jayce can see him hesitate. Only then, and it makes him ache for the man he knew and the man Viktor could still be. Jayce leans into his touch and it breaks him.

"Your glorious evolution to work, I presume," he's trying to sound as he always does, no matter how weak his legs feel. Weak enough for him to grab on to Viktor's left shoulder.

Viktor takes his hand away and Jayce is relieved to be in enough control not to whine.

"Do you think you know me?"

Jayce doesn't know. He knew him, once. Can't be so sure now. He has changed. He's breathtaking. He's destroying Jayce just with how intensely he's glaring at him. Viktor can't never know that.

"Who cares," is what he says, pulled so tight by Viktor's proximity it's a wonder he hasn't snapped. He's cold, he can feel it through his clothes. Hard planes and angles. A mechanical wonder, not fully human but not fully machine. Jayce's breathing stutters as Viktor takes one last step closer and their chests brush together.

"I do," Jayce gets his other hand on Viktor's waist and prods at the joints between the pieces. Whether it's armor or Viktor's body, he doesn't know. "I could hurt you if I wanted to."

Jayce looks at him dead in the eye, his left hand closed so hard around Viktor's shoulder that it hurts. The thrill of his words like fire down his spine.

"You are welcome to try," it's a pathetic attempt to show control, he knows. He's all but draped around Viktor. He's hard, and if Viktor hasn't noticed he won't announce it but it's a fact nonetheless. His breathing is a mess. Everything is crumbling down and Viktor's what's keeping him upright. He feels too big for his body, too small for his longing, too overwhelmed for coherent thought.

And the only thing Viktor had to do was show up.

He'd laugh if he could.

"And what do you want?" Viktor says, leaning into him, and Jayce cups his neck and tugs on his waist until his body's flat against him. Viktor laughs, throaty, and Jayce shivers. "That's new."

No, he wants to say. You have no idea how incredibly not new this is, for how long I've wanted and how bad it's become somehow. It's pointless, though. Viktor doesn't need any more power over him than he already has.

So Jayce lets go of his waist and grabs a fistful of his hair instead before pressing his mouth against Viktor's, hard and as demanding as he can feel, and for a terrifying second nothing happens. But then Viktor is kissing back, grabbing his waist and pulling him closer even though there isn't any closer to get. Feeling bold and reckless, Jayce grinds down on Viktor and the friction makes him moan into his mouth.

Then Viktor's fingers close around his hips and hold him still as he leans back and presses a kiss to Jayce's jaw and Jayce growls and tugs on his hair but is trapped. There's nothing he can do and somehow it gets to him in a way that shocks him, the press of Viktor's fingers on his flesh, gracing bone, setting him ablaze.

"Enough," Viktor's voice is rough, deep, and Jayce drags his hands down his neck to his chest. Hard steel, hot but getting colder. Jayce looks at Viktor's eyes and he's already looking at him, searching. "Keep it so you can still blame it on me, Jayce."

Viktor steps back and it's a miracle that Jayce doesn't fall on his ass with how weak his legs feel. He misses the hard press of Viktor's body the second his back is to him, the way his pieces shift against him, the cold steel getting hot with his body heat. Yet he watches helplessly as Viktor retrieves his mask from the floor and collects his staff in silence, stares in wonder at the lines of his waist and the flexing of his fingers as he clasps his mask.

Jayce takes a deep breath and wills his heart to stop beating in his throat. Viktor turns and looks at him. The mask's eyes drill into his skull and Jayce swallows thickly as Viktor starts walking to the door.

"This was...interesting," Viktor drawls, and every syllable goes straight to Jayce's groin. "We'll see each other again."

He doesn't wait for an answer and Jayce stares at the door as it closes and he's left alone, high and dry, with the stars shining down on him through the skylight.

**Author's Note:**

> Summary from Jayce's lore.
> 
> what if jayce horny? this


End file.
